


from very far away.

by bittertofu



Series: thirty-five ways he said 'i love you.' [18]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 08:12:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11077548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittertofu/pseuds/bittertofu
Summary: If it all had to end, then maybe, just maybe, it wasn't so bad like this.





	from very far away.

**Author's Note:**

> a series of drabbles.

Akechi stumbled out of the Metaverse clutching at his right side. The gash in his ribs wasn't nearly as bad as the gash across his stomach and chest he'd sustained in Mementos what felt like ages ago, but it still stung something awful. Worse, he couldn't staunch the bleeding.

Masayoshi Shido had put up a harder fight than Akechi anticipated. Had even, to his surprise, set upon Akechi with a cognition of him. It was the cognition he spent most of his time taking down. It was on the edge of unsettling, destroying something with his own face, killing himself, essentially, while laughing uncontrollably the whole time.

 _That_ was how Shido saw him? As some subservient, mindless wolf in sheep's clothing? How wrong he would prove him. How thrilled he would be to watch Shido fall.

He staggered along the street, cackling. Even with the world swaying back and forth before his eyes, even with his breath coming out in painful, choking gasps, he felt like he was on top of the world. He had done it. He had cast his spell on Masayoshi Shido, and within days, the man would lose his mind. Everything he'd built would come crumbling down around him, and all the lives he'd smothered beneath his heel would cry out their revenge. It was perfect, so unbearably wonderful that Akechi shivered with delight. Best of all, his father hadn't suspected a thing. To completely and utterly fool a man like that...Well, Akechi could only grin.

Akechi coughed, tasted copper, swallowed it back. He had to get home and deal with this before he grew too weak. He reached into his jacket, popped a couple of powerful painkillers, and hoped that would be enough to carry him through for the time being.

It was as he was replacing the bottle in his jacket that his back pocket vibrated.

The text message was time-stamped for four hours ago—four hours, about half an hour after he'd entered the Metaverse and Shido's Palace. It was from Akira.

_Are you home?_

Akechi frowned at his phone screen and scrolled to the next message, time-stamped for three hours ago.

_Goro, are you home?_

And then, just a half an hour later:

_Where are you?_

Finally, logged at just one hour ago:

_I'm coming over._

His call log registered fifteen missed calls within the past twenty minutes.

Akechi tried to hit the call-back button, but the blood on his glove smeared across the screen and rendered it useless. He swore, slamming his thumb down over and over, before giving up and shoving his phone back into his pocket. He could only make it home before Akira had a conniption. Still, that would prove to be difficult unless he could do something about the way the world tilted and whirled under his feet

All he could do was sit down where he stood and try to control his breathing. His head pounded with headache. At this rate, he wouldn't last. The thought didn't bother him as much as it probably should have. His only real regret—if it could even be called a regret—was that he couldn't tell Akira he was fine. That he'd be home soon.

His eyes just slipped closed when his phone started ringing.

Scrambling, he pulled his phone out and slammed the answer button over and over, with as much success as before. Finally, he ripped his glove off with his teeth (why hadn't he thought of that before?) and managed to answer the call at last.

“Hello,” he gasped, hating the tremor in his voice.

A pause, and then Akira's voice came over the line low and steady. “What's wrong?”

Akechi laughed, breathlessly. “Whatever do you mean?” he asked. “Everything is _fine_.”

“You're lying.”

The certainty behind those words made Akechi's stomach knot up, but the thought of making Akira worry about him was too distasteful. Akechi had always been self-sufficient. He didn't need anyone's concern, and he didn't want it. He shook his head, uselessly, since Akira couldn't see him. Warm liquid rose in his throat, bitter and strange. Blood flooded his mouth, and he fought hard not to cough.

“Where are you?” Akira demanded more than asked. “I'm coming to get you."

“No need,” Akechi said once he'd swallowed blood back for a second time. “I'm on my way home now. You should get some rest. We had a long night.”

“I'm outside of your apartment.”

Akechi should have figured as much. Akira did say he was going over, after all.

“You're really dedicated,” said Akechi, smiling, “aren't you?”

“Tell me where you are.”

Lights danced before Akechi's eyes. The world tilted, swayed, and to his surprise he found that his head was on the ground, his cellphone fallen inches away from his outstretched hand. Oops. He could still hear Akira's voice coming faintly, frantically, through the speaker.

“Goro? Goro!”

It was strange, thought Akechi, how little he hated Akira in this moment. Strange how when he thought of Akira, he felt almost nothing malicious at all. It was a little annoying, certainly, how hard Akira pushed himself into Akechi's life. Akira Kurusu had derailed all of his carefully laid plans, after all, put him in the position he was in now—dying, alone on some sidewalk. Somehow, though, he just couldn't feel that bitterly about it. It felt right, in a way, to let it all end like this.

He closed his eyes, Akira's distant screaming a low and comforting hum. Or was that somebody else screaming? He couldn't tell anymore. He was tired. He just wanted to sleep.

Soon enough, there was only silence. Soon enough, there was only dark; deep, endless, comforting dark.

 


End file.
